


i'm never close enough to say

by hamburr



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Babies, Communication, Fluff, Getting Together, Holidays, M/M, Office Party, Sexual Content, Trans Aaron Burr, Trans Character, Trans Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 09:23:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12884883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamburr/pseuds/hamburr
Summary: Aaron has never in his life liked the office Christmas -- whoops, he’s sure he meansholiday-- party. Ah, yes, the non-denominational event of the year where everyone gets Santa Claus hats with their name on in gold glitter; where red, green, and gold glittering decorations adorn every part of the room; where a fake pine tree is set up in the corner, sparkling with colorful lights.





	i'm never close enough to say

Aaron has never in his life liked the office Christmas -- whoops, he’s sure he means _holiday_ \-- party. Ah, yes, the non-denominational event of the year where everyone gets Santa Claus hats with their name on in gold glitter; where red, green, and gold glittering decorations adorn every part of the room; where a fake pine tree is set up in the corner, sparkling with colorful lights.

Aaron sits at the bar with a glass of water, avoiding eye contact with the bartender. He should get out of the way of the people who are actually drinking, because he keeps getting not-so-accidentally elbowed, but all the tables are filled with people and he’d really rather be sitting than milling about awkwardly somewhere else.

“Are you really drinking straight vodka?” asks a familiar voice from behind Aaron.

Aaron rolls his eyes and turns to look at Alexander. “Like I’d do that at a work party, if I were ever inclined to do so.”

“You’re hanging out at the bar to drink water? ...Or something else clear, is it good?”

Aaron sighs. “It is water. I didn’t have anywhere else to sit, everyone’s being all… social.”

Alex plops down in the stool next to Aaron; the bartender is otherwise occupied, so he leans his chin in his hand and appraises Aaron. “Ah, right. Social. Might as well be a synonym for torture in your book, right?”

“Honestly, it’s just draining,” Aaron says.

Alexander _hmms_ , and then finally gets the bartender’s attention and orders a drink.

The two work for different law firms, but they do a joint holiday party every December where people drink too much and create enough gossip to fuel those inclined to gossip through at least the beginning of February.

Aaron narrowly avoided this plight the previous year, not for lack of scandal, but for forethought. He’d told Alexander to leave before him, and no one -- probably -- was the wiser. The two only see each other periodically; occasionally they’ll be up against each other, but more often than not, that’s avoided as actively as possible.

The way Alex is looking at him, Aaron isn’t sure he will escape the rumor mill so easily this time.

A couple months before this year’s party, Aaron had been the prosecutor on a case that Alexander was the defense for, and it had been nothing short of a nightmare. It had dragged on and on, both of them determined to come out victorious. Aaron had, in the end, and a tightly-smiling Alexander had taken him out for drinks, and then to bed, where they barely left Alex’s apartment the full following weekend. Aaron had left in clothes borrowed from Alexander, with an exhausted satisfaction deep in his bones, and, well.

He takes another sip of his water and tries not to squirm uncomfortably, wraps both hands around his glass to keep himself from fidgeting with the lay of his shirt. He’s fine -- it’s fine -- it’s barely been four months, if he wears the right clothes you can hardly even tell, and he’s in his late twenties, it’s totally normal to get a little softer then, and he’s past the point where everything makes him feel sick so it’s almost like everything is normal. He can be normal with Alex.

It’s _fine_.

Alexander stirs his drink, ice cubes clinking, and smiles at Aaron, his eyes dark. “So what are you up to after this?”

“Same as anyone else, I’m sure, going straight to bed.”

Alex catches the potential double meaning -- of course he does -- and his smile grows, a little lewd.

Aaron hates himself a little for wanting him so much. They’re both young, single -- ish -- and they have undeniable chemistry. And are compatible in bed, too. That’s hard to pass up, especially since it’s been -- well -- just around four months, for Aaron, since he’s been with anyone, and he hates to admit it to himself, but he really wouldn’t mind a bit of a romp with Alex at the moment.

“My bed or yours?” Alexander says, taking the idea of ‘subtlety’ and trampling all over it, and Aaron is torn between sighing in exasperation and giving Alex a smirk in return.

He settles for raising his eyebrows. “I was planning on my own bed, but I have, on occasion, been persuaded to share.”

“Interesting,” says Alex, leaning closer, looking at Aaron through his eyelashes.

Goddammit. Aaron is going to make a terrible decision and going to end up having to have a terrible and awkward conversation with Alexander Hamilton, who has really only been an occasional bedfellow up until this point, and who probably is not even remotely interested in having children, having a _family_ , with some guy he fucks periodically.

“I try,” Aaron says, returning the sultry look -- goddammit -- and Alexander smiles. It reaches his eyes; he has just a hint of smile lines there, to balance the slightly more present touch of stress to his forehead and between his eyebrows.

“How much more time are we required to put in here?” Alex says.

“God only knows. I got my requisite white elephant gift,” -- he’d wound up with a terrible sweater with cats and puff balls all over it, while Alex had gotten a pair of slippers that were made to look like a shark was eating his foot -- “and heard Angelica and Thomas argue, so I feel like I’ve pretty much had the whole experience.”

“Oh, you’re skipping the getting wasted part?”

Aaron gives him a look. “So are you, if you’re planning on any recreational activities after the party.”

“Fair point,” Alex says, and pushes his glass aside. “Wanna make a break for it?”

“If we leave together, _everyone’s_ gonna have their bit to say,” Aaron points out.

 

Alexander looks at him. “Does that really matter at this point?”

Aaron shrugs, and Alexander leans in -- giving Aaron time to move away -- and kisses him, just once, but slow and lingering. It leaves Aaron a little breathless.

“Guess it really doesn’t matter now,” Aaron says, and gets to his feet. “Might as well get out of here, right?”

“You have all the best ideas,” Alex says, and follows Aaron to the coatroom.

 

They’re a little shy, at first; it’s quite different from the last time they colluded -- well, more like collided. Aaron is hesitant, leads Alex to the bedroom and leaves the lights off. The room is lit dimly only by the glow of the lights from the street below. Aaron kisses him cautiously, but Alexander -- as always -- throws caution to the wind, kisses him back fervently and backs him up until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed. Aaron sinks down to sit and Alex stays with him, leaning down and standing between Aaron’s legs.

Alex presses a kiss to Aaron’s jaw, slow and deliberate. “How’ve you been since last I saw you?”

“Mm,” says Aaron, not exactly interested in getting into it. “Surviving. A tragic lack of orgasms in the interim.”

“Well. That’s boring.”

“I’ll say. You could stand to do something about that,” Aaron says, and Alex laughs.

“Let me up, then,” he says. Aaron moves to lay down, and Alexander follows, kneels over Aaron’s thighs. He looks down at Aaron, his hair framing his face, his smile bright in the dim light of the room, and Aaron can’t help but pull him down to kiss him.

“Did’ja miss me?” Alex asks, against his lips.

“I dunno,” Aaron says, and Alex -- never subtle -- runs his hand up the inside of Aaron’s thigh, presses his palm up between Aaron’s legs, just the right pressure and angle to make Aaron’s hips jerk -- enough answer, it seems, for Alexander.

Alex grins, smug, and Aaron rolls his eyes, shakes his head, but he can’t help but smile.

“Come here, if you’re gonna take my clothes off, you should let me take yours off, too,” Aaron says, and then they are focused on the mission at hand. Aaron is doubly focused on distracting Alex, keeping him from inspecting Aaron’s body too closely, so he kisses Alex’s neck like he likes, which makes Alex’s hands fumble more on the buttons of Aaron’s shirt and his breath stutter.

Aaron gets Alex’s shirt off, pushes his undershirt halfway up his torso to run his hands over the curves of Alex’s body, his round stomach and soft hips, the line of hair trailing down to the waist of his pants. Alexander loves to be touched; he closes his eyes and sighs in contentment at the feel of Aaron’s hands on his skin.

“You’re lovely,” Aaron says quietly.

“You’re gorgeous,” Alex says in return, helping Aaron wiggle out of his binder. Alex presses himself against Aaron, skin to skin, and kisses him slowly. Aaron sighs and pushes his fingers into Alex’s hair, his hand cupping the back of Alex’s head, careful and gentle.

The moment lingers on, until Aaron tugs at Alexander’s hair and Alex groans, grabs Aaron’s hips to pull him flush against him. Aaron wants more, wants to make Alex make the lovely sounds he makes when Aaron does something right, wants to be flat on his back with his legs wrapped around Alex, wants to be pounded into the mattress until his tension and stress and worry leave his body and he is nothing but sensation.

Alex fumbles with Aaron’s belt, trying to get his pants off while still kissing Aaron, and makes a frustrated sound when he has more trouble than he’d like. Aaron bats Alex’s hands out of the way and does it himself, and as soon as his pants are out of the way Alex, eager, runs his hands up and down Aaron’s thighs.

“What do you want?” Alex asks.

“Whatever you want to give,” Aaron says.

They rearrange themselves so Aaron sits between Alexander’s legs, his back to Alexander’s front, and when. out of a natural inclination due to their positioning, Alex’s hand comes to rest gently on the curve of Aaron’s stomach, he tries not to tense up in anxiety. He tilts his head back, sort of has to crane his neck to kiss Alex’s jaw, but Alex laughs softly and it is worth the discomfort.

Alexander’s hand slips between Aaron’s legs, and he spreads his thighs to accommodate him, turning his face to rest against his neck. It’s comfortable; not terribly urgent, now that they’ve actually got each other where they want to be, and Alex knows Aaron, knows what he likes, so he doesn’t have to micromanage him like he’s had to with other partners. He closes his eyes and just takes in the feel of Alex, of his hands and his warm soft body and his strong arm around Aaron and the feeling of pleasure and desire and need building from deep inside him until finally, thighs shaking, it consumes him and he comes gasping.

Alex lays him down and kisses him, slowly, sweetly, knowing Aaron likes to take a moment to savor the moment; Aaron can feel him hard against his leg. Aaron reaches down to unzip his pants and Alex wriggles out of them; they fall to the floor in a soft rumple of fabric. He keeps kissing him as he works his hand between Alex’s legs. The angle is awkward, but it seems to work well enough because soon Alex is hardly even kissing him, just panting against Aaron’s lips, and he gasps out _fuck, Aaron_ \-- as he comes, making a mess of Aaron’s sheets and thigh. Aaron side-eyes it; Alex gives a half-embarrassed giggle, and Aaron wriggles to wipe his thigh off on the sheets.

“Really I needed a reason to do laundry, so I should be thanking you,” Aaron says dryly as they readjust their positioning, cuddling up together. Alex laughs; Aaron’s ear is against his chest and he can feel it vibrate through him. God, he wants him still, and the press of naked skin on skin feels too perfect to be true. He wishes, for a moment, that he could trade parts with Alexander; it would be so much easier to get off that way, and he wouldn’t be in this mess --

He kisses Alex to forestall that train of thought, and Alex responds eagerly. “Sorry I’m not ready to go as quick as you --”

“Don’t even worry, I can be patient,” says Aaron, even as he tries to calculate what would be the best way to get some kind of stimulation where he wants it.

“Mm-hm, I can see that from the way you’re -- _mmh_ ,” he says, when Aaron cuts him off with a kiss. He twists his hands into Alex’s thick hair, pulls him in close against him, close as he can. Alex’s hands are strong and steady on the small of his back, one hand sliding down to cup his ass -- Aaron makes an embarrassing squeak of surprise -- and he is warm, so warm, sturdy and present and soft.

When finally Alex is ready to go again, he’s practically on top of Aaron, surrounding his face with a curtain of dark hair. His entire world is Alex, it seems, and it is good.

“I’ve got condoms in my wallet, I can go find my pants,” Alex says, his voice rough and breathless.

“I mean, really it doesn’t matter, so long as you’ve been tested negative recently,” Aaron says, some of the bitterness of his current situation boiling over.

Alex sits back in confusion, his face the very picture of perplexment. “What do you mean? We’re usually pretty careful, I mean, it’s not like being on T prevents you from getting pregnant--” He stops. The other shoe drops. Never one for subtlety, his wide eyes rake over Aaron’s torso. Aaron pushes him away and grabs for the blankets, pulls them over his body, then on second thought, over his head.

“Hey, hey, shit, fuck, I’m sorry, that was so rude, I’m so sorry, Aaron are you mad at me? Of course you’re mad at me, I’m a dick, fuck, I didn’t -- fuck, how long have you --? No, god _damn_ it I shouldn’t ask, I didn’t even mean to find out I’m sure you didn’t want me to know because you didn’t say anything and Aaron will you please say something so I know if you hate me or not?”

“I would say something if you gave me room to fit two words in edgewise,” Aaron grumbles, and Alex lets out an audible sigh of relief. “I’m not really into being stared at on a good day, and -- yeah, that made me fucking uncomfortable. I’m gonna hang out under here for a while.”

“That’s okay! Totally understandable! Please do what makes you most comfortable!”

“Thanks, I intend to. To answer your other question, it’s been about four months or so. Give it another couple weeks and you would’ve probably guessed much faster. Really, I’m surprised that not everyone already knows, but I guess that it’s not the first conclusion anyone jumps to, since I’m read as male regardless. Still, though. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Wow. Shit. That must be tough.”

Aaron makes a derisive sound. “Yeah. Fuckin’ sure is.”

They are quiet, for a long moment. Aaron can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

“Do you want to know something else?” he says, feeling almost like he isn’t even the one saying the words.

“What?” says Alex.

“I -- fuck. Give me a second.” He takes a deep breath, restarts. “I think -- no, I’m pretty certain, given the lack of intervening variables -- I mean -- Alex, it’s -- it’s ours.”

“Holy fucking shit,” is Alexander’s reverently-whispered response. He swears increasingly creatively and blasphemously several more times in the same tone; it would almost be funny if it wasn’t so horrible. “That’s -- a lot to process,” he says finally.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry,” Aaron says. He is shaking all over. “I’m sorry.” He chokes on the words, tears burning hot in his eyes, and then he feels Alex’s hand on his shoulder, over the blankets, gently rubbing in a comforting gesture.

“Please don’t be sorry,” Alex says gently. “It’s not your fault. I just --” a nervous laugh, “-- don’t know what to do with this information! And that’s an awful long time to wait on telling me, unless you found out really recently which probably isn’t impossible but, I -- do you -- do you even want me involved?” There is a tremble in his voice.

Aaron peeks out from the blankets; Alex looks overcome with emotion. “I didn’t think you would want to be,” Aaron says, in a very small voice. “After all, I mean, I’m probably just a periodic fuck to you, I wouldn’t want to -- to pressure you into anything more --”

Alex’s eyes go wide. “No! No, Aaron, not at all, god, I like you so _much_ but I didn’t think _you_ wanted _me_ for more than sex!”

Aaron laughs, nervous, despite himself. “Well, fuck,” he says. “Maybe we should’ve talked about this sooner.”

“I was scared! I didn’t want to scare you off, to lose you.”

“I don’t want to either.” Aaron’s head is fully out of the covers now. “And, well, I mean, if this doesn’t scare you off --”

“It doesn’t --”

“Then do you --”

“Yes --”

“I didn’t even ask a question!”

“Whatever you ask, I want it! I want you, Aaron, I want you in my life, I want to be there for your good days and bad days and when you kick my ass in court and when you come home from work and -- and all the days, okay, all of them, I want to be with you for this. You don’t have to do it alone. I care for you so, so much, Aaron. I want to be here for everything, if you will have me.”

Aaron moves forward and wraps his arms tightly around Alexander, his face pressed against his side.

“Yes. _Yes. I want you too, I want this with you, I can’t imagine anyone else who I would want to share this incredible and terrifying thing with.”_

_“We’re such idiots,” Alexander says fondly. “We could’ve been together this whole time, I mean, really, come _on_.”_

_Aaron turns his head to look up at Alexander, a sheepish little smile on his face. “Yeah, but, y’know. I guess we figured it out now?”_

_“Yeah, I guess we did.” Alex smiles. “Can I kiss you now?”_

_Aaron, smiling, gently tugs him down in response._

__

**_Epilogue_ **

It is, currently, well after five in the morning, after a particularly long and stressful time spent awake. Aaron, sleepy-eyed, holds baby Theodosia in his arms; Alexander cradles Philip.

“I can’t get over how small their hands are,” says Alexander.

“You’ve said that, like, thirty-seven times, at least,” Aaron says, but then can’t keep the smile from his face when he looks up at Alexander and adds, “but I _know_ , right?” He looks back down at Theo, tiny Theo with her perfect wisps of black hair and scrunched-up face and he can see her breathing, he can watch her face make strange expressions as she sleeps, she’s really here, really here in his arms, he can see her now --

“I love them so much,” Alexander whispers. He’s cried more times than Aaron can count over the past several hours (not least of which was when Aaron squeezed his hand so tightly that Alexander cried out, and Aaron said something very kind and sympathetic that probably involved the word fuck, several times), and there he goes again, sniffling.

“Someone needs to staple a box of tissues to your person at all times,” Aaron says.

“Can I hold Theo yet?”

“It’s hardly been fifteen minutes since you did,” Aaron sighs, “she _just_ dozed off.” But he very carefully makes the trade, because he wants to hold his son, too, perfect tiny Philip who only stirs a little when he is transferred -- but then, of course, Theo wakes up, and predictably starts wailing, and suddenly there are two screaming babies which is just a very overwhelming situation for everyone involved for a few minutes until they manage to settle down. This ends up with Aaron holding both of them and Alexander sitting next to him, giggling at him.

“Shh,” says Aaron, “they’re _sleeping_.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“No, I’m just gonna look at them forever. I’m never closing my eyes for the rest of my life. Can’t do anything else again, sorry, I love them too much.”

Alexander leans over and gently kisses Aaron on the head, then Theo, then Philip. “Me too,” he says. “And you. I love you, Aaron, so much. I’m so glad that I’m here with you.”

“I love you too, Alexander. I couldn’t be happier,” says Aaron, and as he seals his words with a gentle kiss, he couldn’t be more certain that he has spoken the truth.

(He’s even sure of it when he discovers Alexander has sent pictures of him, asleep with the twins, to _all_ their friends.)

(“It really is love,” is Alexander’s response to that. Aaron would throw a pillow at him, if they weren’t both holding babies.)

(“Goddamn it, it really is.”)

(“Don’t swear in front of our children!”)

(“Alexander, I love you with my entire heart and soul, but please say less words.”)

(“Aw, I love you too, babe.”)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos make me weep tears of joy. you can find me on tumblr @hambrr!


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